Soulless
by Flame Swordmistress
Summary: "There was no Keyblade this time. There was no strong, bright heart for it to respond to. There were hardly the remains of a heart at all." Sora enters Anti-Form for the first time. KH2 Oneshot.


I found this half-written in the depths of my computer and finally fixed it up for posting. It's a bit different from my normal style but even black sheep deserve chances, right? And let's be honest - I wasn't the only one who dropped the controller and yelped the first time I got Anti-Form. "Okay, gonna bust out Wisdom and shoot some- _zohmigod what happened to Sora?"_

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><p><strong>Soulless<strong>

"Give me strength!"

He'd called those words so many times before, utilizing the powers of his new clothes. Donald and Goofy raised their weapons in tandem, ready to lend him their energy so he could call on a second Keyblade and deal some serious hurt to the hoards of Nobodies that surrounded them.

But there was no strength. Not this time.

Something alien stirred within him, something cold. It felt disgusting and loathsome and _wrong_. But it was already far too late to stop it. Time stood still and he could feel the something forcing its way outward. One of the last fleeting thoughts he had was that it wasn't completely alien after all but something primal, distantly familiar. Something that evoked an instinctive fear, whether from some biological survival impulse or from a nightmare memory of not long ago…

It slid easily over the surface of his heart and across the muscles, taking over his flesh and transforming it into something that was not quite skin. In an instant, it was as though something deep in his heart had torn open. Black, raw _power_ flooded through him, surging hot and destroying any rational thought that remained. Darkness _became_ him, down to his blood, streaming out in place of sweat.

He was angry.

An inhuman shriek escaped his throat as the hot, raw power launched him forward. Claws and teeth ripped at the white non-existent things, leaping and attacking on all fours. There was no Keyblade. There was no strong, bright heart for it to respond to. There were hardly the remains of a heart at all.

Donald and Goofy were not here. Their spirits could be felt, usually, in the warm strength of the Master form. But this dark being held the essence of no one. He was completely – terrifyingly – alone.

Claws and teeth tore in blind rage, leaping like a shadow from target to target and reducing the Nobodies to oblivion. There was no enemy left but the power still surged. He jerked and squirmed in a movement not his own, unable to be still amid the screaming need to _do something_ destroy give the raw power somewhere to go and make it stop surging–

He ran. He paid no attention where, he just ran as fast and as hard as he could, trying to outrun the searing that was building into pain-

The pure Darkness that was running through him would have utterly devoured a normal being. As it was, the faintest glimmer of light still existed deep down in the depths of his battleground of a heart – the sole spark of light that distinguished him as the Keybearer. The Darkness was sliding off of him, unable to get a complete purchase. He caught a glimpse of himself in a reflective window as the Darkness began to boil away: completely black – a shadow – with hardly a wisp of solid form and soulless, yellow eyes. Those eyes burned with the blazing raw power…hideous and yet empty.

He had seen those eyes before.

And then he was on the floor, lying in a mist of evaporating shadow and cold, pale, shaking flesh. Sora shoved himself to his feet, doing his best not to panic as he waited for Donald and Goofy to catch up with him so he could figure out what in the name of all that was holy had just happened. Words echoed across his mind without a voice to attach to, a warning from a dream he had all but forgotten.

_The closer you get to the light…the greater your shadow becomes._

Sora caught his reflection in the window once more. Frightened, bright blue eyes stared back at him, and he took a few seconds to reassure himself that they were real. The eyes…he had seen those glowing, soulless eyes before. On the Anti-Sora that had nearly killed him aboard Captain Hook's pirate ship.

Shivering, he called forth the Keyblade and clutched it tightly as though it could afford him some protection against the emptiness in that glow.

But there could be no protection from himself.


End file.
